You didn’t believe me when I told you I was sick. You didn’t believe me when I told you I needed help. You saw me crying on the floor, cutting up my skin and you didn’t believe me. You told me it was all in my head, and that I just had to try harder. Try, try, try. I tried to be happier, I tried to be more social, and it didn’t work. If anything, it made me worse. It made the weight in my chest ten times heavier. It made the the nerves in my body ten times are electric. I couldn’t feel, couldn’t think, and there was this.. this anchor in my chest that wouldn’t let me leave the comfort of my bed. And there was this voice in my head that told me, “You don’t belong in this world. Let go of this tasteless world, and you’ll find paradise.” I wanted that, my own little paradise. I was tired of my mind, tired of the body that had caused me so much pain. So I let go. I let go of everything and everyone as I sat on the floor of my bathroom and colored red with the something that was once silver. I let go of my body, my mind, my soul as I got carried away in my search for something infinite. What hurts so much was that I could only feel when I was hurting. Happiness was an alien concept and I’d long forgotten how to laugh. When you saw me there, lying on the cold bathroom floor, white tiles now red with all the blood gushing out of me, that is when you believed me. As I lay there still, cradled in your arms, that is when you believed me. I am gone now, I don’t exist now, and now you wish you had believed me.